


I Have Been Saving Smiles for You

by melchimaus



Category: Glee
Genre: Age Difference, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Sexual Assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-02
Updated: 2011-09-02
Packaged: 2017-12-15 04:46:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/845476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melchimaus/pseuds/melchimaus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Joseph Anderson noticed Kurt Hummel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Have Been Saving Smiles for You

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for [this](http://kurt-blaine.livejournal.com/6639.html?thread=1116911#t1116911) prompt. Originally posted to the [kurt_blaine lj](http://kurt-blaine.livejournal.com/2620284.html).

Joseph Anderson loved his son. He truly did. That he wished his son weren't gay did not negate that fact. He knew how hard it was for him at school, had seen the ridicule that _his kind_ had to endure, and what father wanted to see his son go through that? It would have been easier if Blaine had just kept his head down, focused on his studies, had said yes to going to the dance with Erica instead of Eric. He was only fourteen years old; couldn't he have waited a little longer to come out?  
  
"Joe." Sarah sat down next to him in the hospital room, holding out a paper cup. The room was cool in colour and temperature, the blinds having been closed after Blaine mumbled that the sun was disturbing him. The darkness turned the normally bright white walls into a dismal, cloudy grey, shrouding the room with an unnecessary gloominess. Joe took the cup and sipped the coffee slowly, watching as his wife cupped Blaine's cheek, running a thumb over the scar there. Joe's jaw tightened. Stupid boy. What was he thinking?  
  
"Joe," Sarah said again, and he jolted, quickly rearranging his face from a scowl to something more neutral. "He can't... he can't stay there. This can't happen again."  
  
He sighed. "That's not your choice, Sarah." He glanced back at his son, lying motionless except for the steady rise and fall of his chest. "It's Blaine's. And if he wants to stay and stand up -- "  
  
"No." Her voice was more emphatic this time. "No. He stood up to his bullies and now look where we are. We're in a _hospital_ , Joseph. Our son was beaten up by - "  
  
"Well then, what do you suggest?" he hissed back. "Kids are cruel. No matter where he goes, someone is going to find out and then what? Do we move him again? It isn't going to just go away, Sarah. No matter how hard you try, you can't stop him from being gay!"  
  
"I wasn't -- how could you even suggest that?" Her eyes shone with tears, but Joseph scoffed.  _Don't pretend you don't think about it_ , he thought bitterly. _You're not fooling anyone what with your doting mother act._ "I just... no mother wants to be in a fucking hospital praying for her son to be okay!"  
  
"He's fine, Sarah! It's just a few broken ribs, I've had worse happen to me -- "  
  
"But it shouldn't have to happen at all!" She turned away from him. "Look, it's done. There's a school down in Westerville that has a zero tolerance policy for bullying. He's already been enrolled. There's only a couple weeks of school left so we'll let him stay home for now, but come September, he's going to Dalton."  
  
"Dalton -- you're sending him to an all boys school? They're going to murder him!"  
  
"Zero tolerance policy," she repeated, enunciating each word. "He'll be fine. Safe."  
  
Joseph was silent for a moment, watching his wife gently pet Blaine's hair. She steadfastly ignored his eyes, bending down to kiss Blaine's cheek before leaving the room. His son shifted slightly at the contact but didn't wake. Joseph continued to gaze at him, a single thought running circles in his mind: why did you have to come out?  
  
-  
  
Joseph expected Blaine to make a fuss about the transfer, to rave about being uprooted from everything he had ever known, but he didn't. Instead, he listened calmly as his mother explained that this wasn't about being a coward or letting those ignorant bast -- bullies win; it was about making sure he was safe, and besides, Dalton was a very prestigious school and could help him get into a good college. Blaine nodded his head while she talked, occasionally glancing at his father, who in turn, stared stoically at the glass of water on the bedside table. Sarah continued, "And it's an all boys school, so, who knows, you might... well... " and Blaine chuckled, taking his mother's hand.  
  
"Sounds great, Mom," he said softly. Joe finally looked at him, gazed into the hazel eyes that were so like his. They looked tired and muted, but there wasn't any resentment, resignation, or regret. Mostly, his face seemed earnest, but Joe thought he might've seen a tinge of nervousness peeking through. He offered his son a small smile, and the flicker of uncertainty vanished.  
  
Joe blinked, then stood up, said gruffly, "Alright, then", before exiting the room without a backwards glance.  
  
-  
  
Blaine decided not to board at Dalton. Every morning found him sitting in the Anderson's dining room with his hair gelled back and wearing his crisp navy blazer. Sarah made small talk over breakfast while Blaine smiled warmly, nodding and commenting in appropriate places. Joseph usually had his laptop with him, checking emails, but occasionally grunted to show that he was listening. Dinner often found the family in a similar situation. Usually, Joseph was quiet, absorbed in his own thoughts while his wife and son chatted about their day. He wasn't missing much. Sarah was a wedding planner and usually recounted either stunningly perfect ceremonies or epic disasters, and Blaine never divulged anything much past tests and projects. He silently contemplated his chicken while his son described his day.  
  
"Nationals are in New York this year, and Wes -- "  
  
Joseph's head snapped up. "Wes? Is that a... friend of yours?"  
  
Blaine turned to look at his father. He studied him for a bit before responding, "Yeah. A friend. But, uh, he and Thad managed to convince David that I should have the solo for Sectionals."  
  
"For what?"  
  
Sarah glared at him. Blaine merely coughed, taking a sip of water before continuing. "The Warblers. They're Dalton's show choir." Blaine smiled at him before turning back to his mother, who offered her congratulations and promised to try to attend the competition.  
  
Show choir. His son was in show choir. Joseph tried to ignore the pounding in his chest at the thought. Did Blaine have to be so stereotypical? So proud of who he was? Couldn't he have joined a sports team instead?  
  
He closed his eyes briefly and an image of an auburn haired boy in a blue and white jersey flashed beneath his eyelids. His eyes were a light, pretty shade of green, and his crooked smile had made his stomach drop each time he'd caught him staring. He'd blushed furiously and quickly averted his gaze but after the game --  
  
No. He was not going to think about that. He was married now. To Sarah. They had a son together.  
  
He snapped out of his reverie and sighed. Blaine had said that the other boy was just a friend. They were in a club together in school. That was it.  
  
 **i.**  
  
Both Anderson parents had been unable to attend Sectionals, but after learning that the Warblers would be moving on to the Regionals competition, Sarah promised to clear their schedules well ahead of time in order to watch their son perform. Joseph had nodded his agreement, while Blaine smiled his thanks and reminded them that this was completely unnecessary and that someone would likely film the performances anyway. Sarah retorted that _she_ wanted to be the one filming, and Blaine had laughed and given her a hug before leaving for Dalton.  
  
Sarah hadn't been kidding; she was obnoxiously insistent about arriving early and sitting in the front row to avoid any obstructions. Joseph would have been much more comfortable hidden in the middle, but relented; he knew to pick his battles. He settled into his seat and glanced at the program. Dalton Academy would be performing second.  
  
He straightened up a little as the first group was announced. He was not particularly interested in their song, something about friendship and love, but he knew the importance of appearances. An engaged audience member can seem bored if he doesn't look engaged. Likewise, a bored audience member can be seen as absolutely enthralled as long as he looks the part. To a performer, the lying man can be a source of comfort, reassurance that they are doing well. Joseph wished he didn't have to lie to support his son, but that was how life worked sometimes. You had to lie to those you cared about to keep them happy.  
  
Shifting again, he clapped politely as the group left the stage. He watched as Sarah set up her camera, and sighing a little, placed a hand on her arm. Sarah smiled, and turned to face the stage again.  
  
The curtains rose again to the sound of soft vocalising. Joseph's eyes swept the rows of uniform-clad boys in search of his son, but before he could pick him out, one of the vocalists had stepped forward and started to sing.  
  
 _The power lines went out and I am all alone..._  
  
His voice was crisp, clear, and unlike anything he had ever heard before. In fact, the boy himself was unlike anyone he had ever seen before. Tall and thin with chestnut brown hair, slim fingers curled loosely at his sides. He couldn't see his eyes clearly from where he sat, but he knew instinctively that they must have been as stunning as the rest of him. His gaze trailed down to his mouth, pale pink lips effortlessly forming the lyrics, and he suddenly found himself wanting to run his thumb across them, just to feel if they were as soft as they looked.  
  
Blaine's voice jolted him out of his thoughts. He watched him step forward, eyes trained on the other boy. Their eyes locked, and Joseph thought he could see a slight blush creeping up into the boy's face. Blaine moved closer toward him, stepping behind and around to get to the other side, his eyes never leaving his partner's face. Despite the melancholy melody, the boy was smirking, and Blaine was smiling widely. The two boys moved together back to the centre of the stage, never increasing the distance between them and Joseph suddenly realized that this was more than just choreography. Blaine and the other boy didn't want to be apart. They were in their own little private world; they might as well have been rehearsing in their bedroom. They were strong performers and emoted well enough to their audience, but more often than not, they kept their eyes on each other, harmonizing beautifully.  
  
When the song ended, the boys bowed, and before the Warblers could start their next song, Blaine ran over, grabbed the other boy by the shoulders, and pulled him into the spotlight. Something hot curled inside Joseph's stomach, and as the boy bowed again, licking his lips and shooting Blaine a warm glance, he excused himself to go to the bathroom.  
  
-  
  
Later that night, Blaine admitted that the boy, Kurt, was his boyfriend. Joseph told himself that just because his congratulations was stilted, it did not mean it was anything less than genuine.  
  
 **ii.**  
  
It was late. Joseph rubbed his temples and let out a harsh breath as the letters in front of him blurred together. The document was extremely long and strenuous to read, much less edit. It was raining outside, nothing too heavy, but the pitter-patter against the window was absolutely aggravating. He tilted his head back, looking around at the wood paneling surrounding him. Sarah had thought they gave the house character; Joseph thought they were old-fashioned and stifling. Unfortunately, they hadn't had the time to renovate and so the glossy walls stayed as they were.  
  
Pushing his chair back, Joseph left his office and headed for the kitchen downstairs to make a cup of tea. Sarah wouldn't be back for another few hours, and he vaguely wondered if Blaine wanted to order some pizza for the night. He placed the kettle on the stove and went to peer into the living room.  
  
The first thing he saw was immaculately styled chestnut brown hair. Kurt.  
  
He was dressed entirely in grey and yet Joseph's eyes were still drawn to him as if he was emanating a fluorescent glow. He was sitting against Blaine on the couch, not a millimetre of space between them. Even his head was leaning toward Blaine's, eyes fixed on something on their laps, smiling. Blaine turned a page -- so it was a book then -- and Kurt suddenly let out a loud giggle.  
  
"Wow, Blaine," he choked out, holding a fist to his mouth in an attempt to stem is laughter.  
  
Blaine groaned. "My mom thought it'd be cute -- "  
  
"Oh she was right. You were _very_ cute. But a sailor's outfit on a cruise ship? That’s even more unoriginal than wearing a wedding dress to Vegas.” Kurt laughed again, and leant over even more to rest his head on Blaine’s shoulder, nuzzling his neck a little.  
  
Joseph’s fists tightened momentarily. He cleared his throat.  
  
Kurt immediately sat upright again, eyes widening slightly saw him. Blaine only smiled, greeting him with a “Hey, Dad” and reaching over to put a comforting hand over Kurt’s. Kurt, he noticed with a twinge, didn’t relax in the slightest.  
  
He cleared his throat again. “Your mother is probably going to be working late tonight, so if you wanted to order a pizza....”  
  
Blaine nodded. “Sure.” He turned back to the photo album.  
  
“So... what are you looking at?” He stepped into a room, taking deliberate steps. Kurt was looking at the photos again, but he thought he could see him watching his approach out of the corner of his eye. He sat down on the couch, throwing an arm around the back.  
  
“Just some photos from when I was around... five, I think. The year we went to Ireland.” Blaine’s tone was casual.  
  
Joseph shifted closer, fully pressing himself against Kurt. Kurt cleared his throat quietly and moved closer to Blaine. Not to be outdone, Joseph leaned forward as if trying to get a better look at the photo. “So, Kurt, did Blaine tell you about his leprechaun costume for Halloween that year?”  
  
Kurt’s voice was tight, but Joseph only paid attention to the warm brush of breath against his cheek. “No, he didn’t.” He felt him move back to lean against the couch, and did the same.  
  
“Well,” he continued. “You know how stubborn Blaine can be.” He let his mind drift as he recounted story; it had been shared so often among family that he didn’t need to focus on the words. Instead, he adjusted his arm so he was holding Kurt’s shoulder. Kurt’s face remained neutral, only mildly interested in his words, nodding and interrupting with a polite “Really?” when appropriate.  
  
Joseph had been right; Kurt had gorgeous eyes; a bright blue-green that accentuated the paleness of his skin. There was a light blush in his cheeks, but instead of overwhelming his face with colour, only made him look younger, more angelic. As inconspicuously as he could, he breathed in his scent, and was hit with warm vanilla and tangy peach. He tilted his head and inhaled softly again. Ah, yes. The peach came from his hair. Sarah insisted on using expensive brands of shampoo and conditioner that smelled horribly artificial, but this was perfect and natural and reminded Joseph of lazy summers in the orchards as a teenager. He gently ran his fingers along Kurt's shoulder, wondering if he could touch the edge of his shirt collar without his noticing.  
  
The kettle whistled. All three jumped at the sound, and Joseph stood up hastily, clearing his throat. "I guess I'll finish the story another time," he muttered, before looking up and adding, "Unless you boys want some tea?"  
  
Blaine opened his mouth to respond, but Kurt cut him off. "No thank you," he replied, looking back at the album. Joseph looked away, focussing on where his hand had been moments before, and saw that his shoulder was moving. He let his gaze rove down his arm and stared at his hand, long pale fingers splayed on Blaine's thigh, stroking.  
  
"Your tea is going to get cold, Mr Anderson," said Kurt lightly. The words shocked him out of his reverie, and he left the room.  
  
"Are you okay?" he heard Blaine ask behind him, but Kurt replied in a whisper. He poured the hot water into his mug and tried not to think about what other places of Blaine's body those hands had explored.  
  
 **iii.**  
  
Joseph didn't recognize the car in the driveway, but he knew who it must have belonged to. Blaine had told him that Kurt would be coming over that day, albeit a little tentatively. He didn't know what Kurt had told him that afternoon, how much he had noticed, if he had noticed anything at all, or was simply uncomfortable with his tactility. He did his best to give him an indifferent reply, and left to have a meeting with a client. He hadn't paid a single thought to his son or his boyfriend for the entirety of lunch, but as the waiter appeared with the cheque and two small breath mints, he found his mind beginning to wander again. He thanked the waiter and slipped the mint into his mouth, rolling it around languidly on his tongue and making it last the drive home.  
  
Walking briskly up the front steps, he entered through the front door and into the foyer. A woman's voice drifted toward him from the living room, and he followed the sound. He was greeted with the image of Blaine and Kurt snuggled together on the couch again, watching a soap opera. Blaine glanced over at his father, and reached an arm out to wrap around Kurt's shoulders protectively, the other smoothing out his own hair. "Hey, Dad. How did the meeting go?"  
  
"Fine, thank you," replied Joseph. Kurt's eyes never left the screen but he shifted at the sound of his voice, nudging a cushion towards Blaine, who pulled it into his lap. A flash of realization hit him and he set his jaw.  
  
"Kurt, if you don't mind, I'd like to have a word with my son in private."  
  
Kurt looked up at him, a neutral expression on his face.  "Of course. I should be going now, anyway."  
  
"Kurt --" Blaine reached for his hand as he stood up, but he batted it away.  
  
"I'll see you tomorrow, Blaine." He leant down again to give Blaine a quick peck on the cheek. He smoothed down his clothes and made to leave, but Blaine grabbed his arm again.  
  
"At least let me walk you out."  
  
Joseph interrupted. "No, Blaine, stay where you are. I'll do it."  
  
Kurt looked at Joseph again, and while his expression couldn't quite be deemed a glare, there was still something dangerous flashing in his darkened eyes. "That really won't be necessary, Mr Anderson."  
  
Joseph didn't back down, his stomach giving an odd twinge. "I insist."  
  
Kurt continued staring but acquiesced. He crossed his arms and brushed swiftly past him. Before he could get too far ahead of him, Joseph placed a hand on the small of his back. Kurt tensed but didn't quicken his pace. As they approached the front door, Joseph started letting his hand fall lower, relishing in the smooth glide of his back muscles as he walked. On impulse, he pushed, kneading into his back right above the curve of his ass, wondering what those muscles would feel like without the buffer of the thin fabric.  
  
Kurt rounded on him, and there was no mistaking the anger in his eyes. Joseph stepped back a little. "I apologize. That was... inappropriate."  
  
His eyes narrowed as he replied. "Thank you." With that, he spun around again and left, pulling the door shut behind him with more force than was necessary.  
  
Joseph didn't move, instead closing his eyes and trying to reconcile the feelings between his brain and groin. _Kurt and Blaine are dating. Kurt and Blaine are dating. Kurt and Blaine are dating._ It didn't work. Instead, it made the warmth in his gut expand viciously.  
  
He returned to the living room, told Blaine stiffly that he was grounded, and went to his office without offering an explanation. Blaine didn't follow him.  
  
 **iv.**  
  
Kurt's car was in the driveway again, despite the fact that it was only 8PM. Surely he and Blaine should still be out? He gritted his teeth as he slid into the two car garage and entered the house through an adjoining door. After his little slip-up, he had promised himself that he would stay away from his son's boyfriend. He couldn't risk another encounter like that.  
  
The house was silent. He peered into the living room. There was no one there. He quietly made his way upstairs, listening intently for any sign of the boys. He walked by Blaine's bedroom and considered the closed door. After a moment of thought, he leaned forward to put his ear against the door.  
  
He couldn't hear much, but if he strained, he could make out the sound of heavy breathing and quiet moans. He thought he heard one of the boys hush the other, and the moaning stopped.  
  
Joseph debated over whether to open the door. This was his home, and while he had never explicitly told Blaine what was and was not acceptable under his roof, his son had to have known what was expected of him. It was his duty as a father to enforce boundaries.  
  
On the other hand, he couldn't be sure what they were doing. He had a vague idea, but... his mind flashed with images. Were they shirtless? Were they lying side by side on the bed or was one hovering over the other? Who exactly was the one moaning? If it was Blaine, barging in would only embarrass him. If it was Kurt... he didn't let himself entertain that option.  
  
There was a high pitched squeal, and without thinking, Joseph opened the door. Kurt was lying on the bed with Blaine above him. The latter was fully clothed, but Kurt's dress shirt had been unbuttoned, and Blaine's lips were clamped firmly around right nipple. Joseph barely had time to notice his pale, lean stomach before he pushed Blaine off him and quickly pulled his shirt together. It didn't stop him from staring. Blaine cleared his throat.  
  
He turned to look at his son and was shocked to see defiance in his eyes. When had this happened? Where was the boy who was always polite and respectful and deferential to authority? The one who never showed any emotion towards him? It seemed his relationship with Kurt had changed him. Or perhaps it had given him something to be angry about... He shook his head to clear the thought.  
  
"Why was this door closed?"  
  
Blaine's voice was casual, a startling contrast to the hardness of his face. "You've never said I had to keep it open."  
  
"Well, I'm saying it now. Kurt, I think it's time you left."  
  
Kurt had finished buttoning up his shirt, and was already grabbing his messenger bag from beside the bed. "Goodbye Mr Anderson," he replied shortly, brushing past him. Joseph could see a dark bruise forming on his collarbone, the mark barely covered by his shirt. He turned back to Blaine. "I'm disappointed in you," he said gravely, but it didn't have the effect on his son that it once did. Blaine only glowered at him, and stepped over to his desk, turning on his laptop.  
  
Joseph left the room, and quickly made his way down the stairs. Kurt was just stepping on the main floor landing. "Kurt," he called. "A word, please."  
  
Kurt turned to look at him. The expression on his face was so cold that he wondered which one of them was more likely to freeze into ice. He focused his eyes on the hickey instead, but it was now covered by the strap of his bag. His hair was perfectly coiffed, and if Joseph hadn't seen it, he would never have guessed what the boy had been doing with his son only minutes before.  
  
"I'd like to talk to you about your relationship with Blaine," he began, gesturing into the living room. Kurt didn't move. He tried again.  
  
"He hasn't had many relationships before this, and I just wanted to make sure that you were... aware of what the two of you may be getting into."  
  
Kurt narrowed his eyes. "And what exactly do you think is going to happen?"  
  
"You seem to be getting very intimate rather quickly, and I just want to make sure that your thoughts aren't too addled by lust to... well, to be frank, sex is not a relationship."  
  
Kurt's mouth dropped open and he almost growled out his next words. "How _dare_ you. How _dare_ you subscribe to such a hurtful stereotype when your own son is gay? We are able to be intimate with each other because we love each other. Or are you under the impression that gay men can't love?"  
  
Joseph shook his head, taking a deep breath to collect his thoughts. "Not at all. It's just... you're moving a little fast, don't you think?"  
  
"I've already established that we care for each other. If you don't want to believe me, that's fine. I can see I'm not going to change your mind and I'd rather not waste my breath." He turned to leave, but Joseph grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him against the wall. He pressed his thumb over the spot where the hickey was, and moved in closer, melding their chests together and slipping one leg between Kurt's, nudging the hardness there. A whine sounded Kurt's throat, and Joseph felt his own cock throb.  
  
"You see?" he whispered, as Kurt struggled. He adjusted the strap of his bag so he could caress the bruise with his thumb. "It doesn't take much to get a boy hard. Who's to say you'd like this any less of it was a girl?" He leaned his head in closer, letting their foreheads touch. He could feel the ghost of Kurt's breath of his lips and ground his thigh against him again, pulling out a gasp. Kurt's eyes had darkened and his skin had regained its warm blush. He turned his head away, and Joseph couldn't help but admire the way he struggled against him. He made to mouth at his jaw, when a sharp pain erupted from his groin, and he fell backwards, clutching at his stomach.  
  
"Don't you _dare_ touch me again, you despicable man," Kurt seethed, an ugly scowl on his face. "And don't you _dare_ touch Blaine --"  
  
"I would never--" coughed Joseph, still bent over. Kurt advanced on him, and he stumbled backwards into the railing of the staircase.  
  
"You better not," he warned, teeming with rage. "I don't know what the hell goes on in that Neanderthal head of yours, but if you do anything to Blaine, I swear to God I will end you. He deserves so much better than to have his life ruined by the likes of you." With one last glare, he turned on his heel and stormed away.    
  
 **v.**  
  
Blaine's demeanour was as unshaken as ever, and although his replies to Joseph had become clipped, Sarah doesn't notice. Joseph had expected to receive a call from Kurt's father after the incident but he never did. He was half relieved, half disappointed. He didn't want to have to think about sexual abuse charges and lawsuits, but at the same time, it would have given him closure. Instead, he sat alone in his office, thinking. He heard footsteps in the hallway and assumed it was Blaine, coming home from his date. He didn't even try to listen for voices; he knew Kurt wasn't with him.


End file.
